Overly Dysfunctional Friendship
by TheThirdAetas
Summary: Pony was horribly mistaken in believing Steve hated him. Steve was insanely fast in deciding whether or not "that tag-a-along kid" was worth dying for. And after a random shooting takes place with the two caught in the middle, they are going to have to deal with more than just bullet wounds whether they like it or not. NOT SLASH, NOT TRAGIC.


Ah, well...I'll tell you guys right now...this is an old story. This doesn't portray my best writing, to be honest. However, I still really like the idea behind this along with the way I played it out, so I decided, why the heck not? I've been waiting to post something on here and while I'm finishing up my other stuff, why not bring this one in first?

So, voila! Here you guys go.I hope you enjoy it - thank you for stopping by. :D

**Warning/Disclaimer: **Cussing, hints towards violence, and possible OOC because...well, I'm not S. E. Hinton.

**Extra:** This story first sprung up with this idea that: Ponyboy, you thought Darry hated you. So why should I believe you when you say Steve also hates you?

* * *

_**Overly Dysfunctional Friendship**_

* * *

"I'm going to KILL HIM!" Ponyboy screams, running along Two Bit as they both ducked around a corner, pivoting around a nurse who also screamed as they blew past her.

It would have been the perfect moment to add a 'whoosh' sound as the woman involuntarily pulled a Marilyn Monroe and she had to force down the skirt threatening to reveal more than just some leg skin.

"Sorry, ma'am!" Two Bit barely got out over his shoulder, but paid no heed to the death glower sent towards their back. Actually, several unwelcoming glances were thrown at their specific direction and it was no wonder, with the vicious journey they were taking in the well-standing hospital.

Even with that in the back of their minds, they continued to leave a trailing path of destruction behind them as their grimy sneakers pounded against the clean, white tiles.

Had this been under any other situation, Two Bit would be saying hello to his laughed-out lung and Ponyboy would be hanging his head in humiliation.

"And, kid," Two Bit started between shallow breaths, turning his attention back onto his younger vigilante in crime, "That's only if that that gun didn't do the job for ya."

Both of their heads swung left and right as quickly as they could at this speed. Every number that wasn't 1288 flew past their heads as they frantically searched for the Room that held a teenager they would either hug or strangle.

It all depends on their mood once they see his beloved face.

"It won't," Ponyboy snapped out, "'Cause then I'd have to dig my way to hell, bring him back, and kill him myself," Ponyboy snapped, his pace speeding up just a bit as he saw Darry and Sodapop standing in front of a door, faces creased with deep worry lines.

Pretty darn familiar.

"Why…why ain't you…" Whatever Two Bit was about to say was cut off by a round of wheezing as he keeled over, hands on his knees as his head dropped closer to his chest.

"Two Bit…" Ponyboy sighed out, looking dryly at his friend as he stood up tall (with a slouch), looking unaffected and unruffled. This is excluding the fact that he is between a rock and a furious place.

"Why ain't you two in there with Steve?" Two Bit was finally able to breathe out in one complete, unbroken sentence.

"Soda wouldn't let them do their job," Darry wryly replied. "And I'm handing you guys the two-second version of a whole half hour."

"It's Soda, 'course he'd do nothing less," Pony scoffed out, fondly shaking his head before he breathed in deeply and shot the sniper rifle question. "How is he?"

Soda's smile was strained and crooked. "The doc…he's in there right now, checkin' up on his stats and stuff but…" When Soda's smile dropped and his quivering hands buried themselves in his pockets, Two Bit and Ponyboy expected one of the worst case scenarios.

Darry tried not sigh.

"He can't die," Ponyboy burst out with, throwing his hands up in the air, surprising his brothers and friend with his sudden panic attack. "And if he's in a coma, then screw that too 'cause the grim reaper's gonna have to wait until I'm through with that idiot!" Everyone, even the nurses at the desk were staring at this tantrum-throwing fifteen year old at this point. "I am _not _accepting this 'Steve saved me' crap!"

Darry covered his eyes with a hand and went through motions his dad once taught him to do when it came to dealing with his younger brothers. _I love Ponyboy and his brain has not yet fully developed, I love Ponyboy and his brain has not yet fully developed…_

"Ponyboy," Soda weakly said, looking as if he finally had to struggle to figure out what in the world was he supposed to say to that. "He took a bullet for you. I'm kinda thinking he did save you."

Ponyboy shook his head furiously. "No, no, NO. That's what Two Bit would do, that's what Johnny would do, that's what you and Darry would do! Steve…" His hands came down on top of his head and it looked like he had a serious case of dandruff with how his hands rubbed his hair. "…Steve can't do that. He hates me and I hate him." His voice dropped to a helpless mumble that everyone's ears barely caught. But when they did…"We wouldn't do that for each other."

…All of them wondered 'what the hell?'

Now, Two Bit would have said that aloud. Darry and Soda would have definitely said that aloud.

They were all thinking the same thing anyways.

But then the door opened to an incredulous looking man adorned in a white overcoat, along with two amused-looking women behind him…who, on a random note, were wearing Winnie the Pooh characters all over their scrubs.

"I do not really know what all this screaming is about, but I'd still appreciate if you'd keep your voices down for the sake of our other patients on this floor," the doctor drawled, raising an eyebrow at the ruffians standing in front of the room.

Darry immediately stood up to take responsibility. Technically, anything that happens within his gang will go back to him anyways, so it's almost always his fault. "I'm sorry for that, doctor, we were having a bit of…" Darry's stare was blank for a moment as he tried to describe what he just saw and heard. "…an emotional disorder on our side."

"Yea, doc, their kid brother over here is having somethin' of a meltdown," Two Bit piped up, looking fatigued as he slammed a restraining hand down on a scowling Ponyboy. "Just ignore the lil' stiff and tell us what's going on."

That set off for Soda's cue. "How is he, doctor? His blood pressure good? How 'bout his stomach? He ain't bleeding his guts out no more, is he?" Soda burst out anxiously, letting his ADD kick in. As in, whatever commotion that happened a minute ago flew out of his head and floated up into the sky to be run over by planes. "Does he need us to go buy food or somethin'?"

Two Bit's eyes lit up slightly at that.

"He'll do fine," the doctor said, looking the teenager practically jumping up and down and he cracked a small, assuring smile. "The bullet went through and through, so that means it didn't severely damage any major organs or arteries. We have him on a low dosage of morphine for the pain and for a few days, he will have to take pain killers if it's too much for him to handle." He held the clipboard in his hands slightly higher, his eyes slowly going down a sheet of paper. "Katy, Jen, how's his red blood count?"

"10-percent deficiency rate," the brunette immediately replied, stopping her red-haired partner right in the middle of her own clipboard searching.

The doctor nodded absently, still holding his clipboard close to his face. "He did lose a bit too much blood there, so we're both giving him fluids and a blood infusion to help boost up his numbers." When he raised his head to look at the bunch of hopeful eyes in front of him, he felt guilty that he didn't have anything better than what he had written down on his wooden clipboard.

"But, overall, he will be just fine by the end of this month. Extreme weather can bother his stomach and he may have ghost pains from time to time…I suggest that if he does any sports, he waits until next year to be safe." The doctor tucked the clipboard within the crook of his elbow. "But he will be fine."

"Yea, yea, yea, heard this all already and now they did, so let them Hoods in," a weak voice called out behind the doctor.

Sarcasm was still practically dripping off of his words, though.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"Steve!" Soda and Pony cried out at the same time, running straight through the door and miraculously _not_ knocking the doctor onto his behind.

Darry and Two Bit at least had enough manners turn and slide into the room, safely avoiding any unnecessary contact with an exasperated doctor. At this point, he's the only one to blame, since he didn't gain enough wisdom to move out of the way.

The doctor looked over his shoulder, watching as his nurses slowly turned away from the inaudible clamor in order to look at him helplessly. Rolling his eyes, he jabbed his thumb through the thin air behind him and sighed out, "Might as well leave this little love fest to themselves until the infusion is done, ladies."

Katy covered her mouth as Jen slapped her friend in the back, lightly coughing as the three made their way out.

* * *

"Why did you do it?"

Well, let it not be said that Ponyboy was the type to beat around the bush.

An uncomfortable tension fell around the room, leaving Steve in an irritating state of bewilderment.

"Do what? Get shot?" Steve asked, fumbling with the buttons on the side of his bed. It took him a while until he elevated himself properly into a position where his irritated glare could be fully noticed. "My psychic said it's for good luck and crap like that."

And let it be said Steve is a hypocrite for calling Ponyboy a smartass.

"That ain't what I'm asking 'bout and you know it, Steve," Ponyboy snapped, eyes spitting fire as his mouth shot poisoned arrows. "I'm asking why you took that bullet for me."

"You guys," Soda piped up, looking wide-eyed at his best buddy and little brother. "This isn't –"

"That bullet wasn't aiming towards your empty head, genius," Steve shot back, mouth spitting fire as his eyes shot the poisoned arrows.

"Steve, you just got shot, don't go getting a damn heart attack on us, too," Two Bit argued back, trying to get both of their attention by waving his arms around like a monkey. All he got was nothing though, since Tom and Jerry couldn't take their glares off each other. So groaning and letting his arms fall to the side, he cried out, "Man, you two are worse than a beefed pack of socs sometimes!"

"Two Bit, Soda," Darry steadily said, waiting until he had two pairs of worried eyes on him. "Let them." His eyes looked pointedly at them and their incredulous expressions. "I'm not pulling your guys's chain. Until their fists start flying, let them at each other."

And that seemed to set off fire and gun powder.

"Yes it was and you were there, you know it, I –"

Two Bit watched as Ponyboy's shoulders shook from released rage.

"Then he saw me and –"

Soda watched as Steve feebly, but determinedly defended himself.

"And was still going to shoot me, but you –"

And Darry saw nothing but two boys who had no idea what in the world they were trying to get at.

"I MOVED, alright, and he thought I'd be a better bullseye, what about that don't your overlarged head get, huh?!"

"Me and my overlarged head says you ran over from the other side of the store and _covered_ me until –"

"Why would I _ever_ do that for you!?"

And then there was silence.

And then there was absolute surprise.

"Exactly," Ponyboy shakily got out, body seemed to sag forwards with defeat. "You would _never_ do that for me. But you did. I know you did. That gun…" The young fifteen year old audibly gulped and his eyes began to glitter. "I'm supposed to be lying there right now, Steve. You can't say…you can't say anythin' different."

Steve's jaw dropped long before Ponyboy stopped talking and he felt like _this_ would be the reason for his heart attack. "Kid, mother of Mary, that better not be _tears_ I'm seeing."

In reply, Ponyboy blinked rapidly and gave his head a little, well-needed shake. "I ain't gonna be bawling like a baby if that's what you're asking," Ponyboy muttered, embedding his finger nails deeper into his palm. He felt relief wash over him as the water threatening to destroy all foundation of self-respect fade away. But in its place, he felt absolute confusion. "But…it's just…of all the people…you're one of the last…" Ponyboy was the one to first break off all eye contact.

He didn't bother to continue. It might have been a jumble of arbitrary words he got out, but it was all that was needed for a mind to walk across.

Still though, Steve didn't reply right away. Ponyboy knew that was a good thing too. If a guy like him hesitates to give that finger-snap reply he's so freaking good at, then he understands…

…He understands…

"I wasn't thinking."

The three soft spoken words were filled with embarrassment and even a bit of shame. It made silence reign once more as greenish-gray eyes stared at him with absolute amazement.

"What?" Ponyboy whispered.

Steve didn't dare look any of the gawks blatantly etched his way. "I wasn't using my head, alright? I saw that gun, I heard the click, and my body ended up doing shit before my head could get it to stop." His fingers idly played with the bed sheets as he continued to look off to the side.

Ponyboy shook his head slowly and subconsciously. "You're a'woofin, right?" he whispered. "You did this because your brain didn't wanna get outta the car and do some walking?" Ponyboy was downright affronted at that and he couldn't help but yell, "You mean this all would've been avoided if you just used your head!?"

Soda blinked at that. For some reason, that last line was very, very familiar. Something that was probably a theme inside the Curtis abode, a theme commonly shot through the throat in the form of mental bullets.

He shrugged to himself. Must just be him.

But on the other hand…"Oh the irony," Darry muttered inaudibly to himself, wishing he listened to Two Bit when the guy offered to steal a tape recorder for him.

"Yea, that's exactly it, alright!?" Steve yelled back, struggling to get out of bed until a certain nineteen year old with sideburns almost lazily reached out with one palm to push him back. It didn't do anything to make the bedridden teenager pause in his tirade though. "You think I would've done that to you if I honest to God thought it through?"

Ponyboy's face reddened, whether from rage or embarrassment was unknown, but what he knew was that Steve was not getting away with…

…And he paused.

Soda was the one to point out the little idiosyncrasy. "To?" he drawled out, a bit carefully.

Steve's eyes instantly widened as his mind mulled over the words he just said.

And he let out a blue streak.

Darry rolled his eyes, looking at the clock and silently wondering when they were going to get down to the nitty gritty, conquer the dirt that was plaguing the relationship between his youngest brother and his younger brother's best friend, then move the crap on.

He'll give it another fifteen.

"Seems like Soda hit a soft spot there, Stevie ol' boy," Two Bit mentioned, raising an eyebrow pointedly at a currently pissed-at-the-world adolescent.

"No, no he didn't, Two Bit," Steve snapped, flipping his dear friend the bird, who just happily grinned in return. He turned to everyone else's face before he quickly emphasized and explained, "Soda says crazy shit all the time, this is just another one of his mumbo jumbo, ya dumbasses hear?"

Soda's eyes pouted for him. "Aw, Steve!"

"And Soda has a point," Ponyboy drawled out afterwards, looking thoughtfully at Steve under a new light. However, old Steve did not like the idea. Actually, he wanted to burn the idea alive. "Why say 'to'? Any normal person's gonna say 'for you' because 'to you' sounds more like a betrayal you'd never follow through with. But why make it sound like a crime?" As one could tell, Ponyboy was really on a roll here with his Sherlock Holmes gene.

Steve was just lying down on his bed, eyes averted up towards the ceiling.

In his irises, there seemed to be lightning strikes clashing against each other, fighting to see whether or not their owner will choose zipping up in eternal silence or opening up to sweet relief.

In a span of several seconds, Steve turned onto his side, pulled the covers up to his shoulders and avoided any visual contact with humanly characteristics as he parted his lips to let out a soft, bitter voice.

"Remember those days after Dally and Johnny died?" he steadily started, staring into the nothing that the room provided.

That stare, that voice, and the mentioning of _the_ two names beginning to become taboo within their five-man gang created the absolute attention that was being given to him right now. No one even bothered to answer that question as they waited for him to continue.

"It was a hailstorm of idiots all over the place," Steve unashamedly stated, causing a round of dry glares pointed at him. "Two Bit was blaming himself for Ponyboy getting sick. Darry was blaming himself for giving Ponyboy a well-deserved smack." Ponyboy punched Two Bit on the arm at his nod of agreement. "And Soda, 'cause he was the one who told Darry not to go after Ponyboy. I had nothing to do with any of that, so I was just forced to watch some sob story turn into a sob fest."

"Get to the point, Steve," Darry sighed out, getting uncomfortable with where Steve was going. He uneasily glanced at his watch.

_Four minutes._

Steve acquiesced, oddly enough. "Point is, you guys do stupid stuff like blaming yourselves for other people's actions. So I promised myself I'd never be any one of your guy's reason for anything, good or bad." Steve was still looking at nothing, shrugging one shoulder apathetically. Though, that totally broke once he snorted derisively to himself and muttered, "And, damn, did I do a mighty fine job of it."

Ponyboy was struggling to reply to that. "So you did it…" His mind was barely able to wrap around the notion. "…For me?"

Steve smirked mockingly at Ponyboy, wincing slightly as his chest began to throb. Grabbing his chest through his gown, he stopped caring about what he was saying and simply muttered, "I did it because of you."

Everyone was staring at Ponyboy now, excluding Steve, watching what would be his next move.

Watching how would the emotional disorder on legs would respond.

And respond in the one way no one thought would be possible…he did.

"Thank you," Ponyboy whispered, his words ringing loudly in everyone's ears.

Steve's eyes became bright with surprise as he snapped his stare over to an uncomfortable greaser fidgeting with the ends of his shirt. Greenish-grey irises clashed head on with blue, determination palpable as was his coy hesitancy. And Steve's chest suddenly became the least of his attention now.

"What'd you just say?"

Ponyboy's ears became bright red.

"I…I never thought you'd ever try to protect me," he explained further, voice refusing to level higher. "Not like that, anyways. Belt a guy for insulting me, yea, but only because you ain't the one doing it." Steve had to crack a smirk at that. "And, sure you'd back me up in a rumble. I'm your best buddy's little brother. But I just thought that's all I was to you. An extra package." Ponyboy inserted a smile at this point, a tiny one that no one ever saw directed to Steve. "You proved me wrong."

Steve uncomfortably looked off to the side, rubbing his chest just for the sake of busying his slightly quivering fingers.

Eyeing the bright red cheeks that just replaced Steve's normally colored ones, Two Bit and Soda were grinning as if they were wolves with a fleet of sheep right in front of them.

"Yea, don't be a broad kid." Steve's blue eyes snapped towards Ponyboy, an accusatory edge in them. "And next time, I'm gonna save my own skin, you got it? Think about that before you go in a dark alleyway to smoke your brain cells outta existence, savvy?" Steve snapped out, pulling his blankets over his chest again.

For Steve, that meant: Shut up.

For Ponyboy, Soda, Two Bit, and Darry: Absolutely, totally embarrassed.

But for the first time ever since Pony met Steve and quickly created a bond with a foundation of pure frustration…

"Alright, alright, don't have an aneurism," Ponyboy chuckled out, before innocently adding in a sarcastic voice, "And I'm sure, next time, you'll actually use your head and try not to save me. Then deny it all the way 'til you're buried six feet under."

Ah, there it was…Steve's unnaturally apple-like turning skin. This time, though, it went all the way down to his neck. Oh, and it was accompanied by a full-on Steve original scowl.

"Why do my words go through your ear and die before they reach your brain?" Steve grumbled. Ponyboy would have replied with something much more smart ass than that though, had the bedridden boy not get drowned out by –

"He relents!" Two Bit cheers, ruining the moment as he grabbed an empty Styrofoam cup beside him and spontaneously threw it in the air. "About time, can we go get food now!?"

Steve instantly, like a light bulb on PMS, brightened up at that. "For the love of Mary, yes!" he exclaimed, practically throwing the sheets off of him as he pointed at his gang, one by one. "Two Bit, get me a hamburger with a side order of fries."

"Yes, sir!" Two Bit yelled, standing at attention and mock saluting.

"Soda, get me rocky road ice cream with a medium pepsi!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Soda enthusiastically bellowed, throwing his arm around Two Bit and throwing his thumb up to point back at him and the nineteen year old greaser. "You can count on us."

"Sure. Darry, go tell the doctor who tried to shove 1000 mg of pain killers down my throat to go fuck himself!"

Darry raised an eyebrow at that. "I can, but I can tell you now that it's just gonna make your stay here extend longer," he dryly pointed out.

Steve paused at that. "Yea, you gotta point. Screw that then, just make sure Two Bit and Soda actually get what I order. Knowing them, they'll probably come back with jam and chicken to piss me off."

"Damn," Two Bit muttered.

"And, of course, I get the hardest job of all," Darry said, smiling teasingly at the aforementioned toddlers he was ordered to babysit.

"Of course. And Ponyboy…" Greenish-grey eyes looked obligingly, almost even _softly_, at him. Steve's look turned petulant. "…Go stuff yourself in some trash can and stay there."

Ponyboy smirked and his look turned into a more familiar conniving brat. "You guys, I think I'm gonna make sure Steve doesn't feel too lonely or nothing."

"Have fun with each other," Two Bit deviously sang out.

Beside him, Soda nodded alongside, immediately and happily agreeing, "Good idea."

Too bad poor, pain-ridden Steve didn't see it the same way.

As another round of chaotic debate unfurled in front of Darry, he just patiently leaned back against the wall behind him as he amusedly watched as Soda and Two Bit get themselves sucked into whatever idiocy was happening once again.

He looked at the clock hanging by the open window and rolled his eyes. Honestly, since Steve getting shot didn't reform his and Pony's relationship anything normal – or at least further from the old married couple bond they seemed so fond of gripping onto for dear life – then nothing ever will.

Though, Ponyboy _did_ disobey Steve when he said, in summary, 'take a hike, kid,' and decided to stay on his own free will instead of clenching his fists and biting out a cold, furious, 'fine.'

Actually, now that he thinks about it…

_I think we just saw somethin' good happen with Steve and Pony's overly dysfunctional friendship._

A small smile tugged at Darry's lips.

"_That _is definitely a change we'll all be able to handle," he chuckled out inaudibly, before finally grabbing Two Bit and Soda by the back of their shirts and dragging their behinds out the door.

…_Though, when it comes to those two, I might be speaking too soon._

**Fin**


End file.
